by A. C. Ellas
Owain made a brief ceremony of bestowing the seal of the chancellor on Deviol then the council moved on to the next order of business.
Maziel stood. “As you all know, my beloved wife, the Lady Kazia, has been murdered. This foul deed was committed by the dark, evil creature that sits here at this very table with us. I demand his immediate arrest, trial, and execution.”
“There’s no proof that Araken was involved,” Jethain protested at once. Jisten quickly surveyed the remaining councilors. Most appeared to side with Maziel. Only Duke Peneron seemed neutral, but then, he was always neutral.
“There is plenty of evidence,” snapped Lord Kezil. He was Maziel’s cousin but rarely agreed with his moderate relative. “I stand with Lord Maziel. The dark one did this, we all know it. Arrest him at once and have done with it—before someone else dies by his blade.”
The council muttered their agreement, casting their gazes upon the king in demand of a pronouncement.
“Prince Araken has not been charged with the murder of Lady Kazia. I grieve for her death; she was a bright light in our court. However, I will not interfere with the Watch’s investigation, nor will I order the arrest of a foreign envoy who may turn out to be innocent after all. Our laws here are clear, as well. In order to arrest him, there has to be evidence of a crime. The Justicers cleared his assistant, who swore under oath that Araken was at his side while this crime was being committed.” Owain made eye contact with every one of his councilors as he spoke. Some backed down, some did not.
“The Justicers did not clear him.” Maziel was just about frothing at the mouth. “The dark one murdered my wife to raise power for his evil god. He tried to attack the city wards, using my wife’s death to attack us, to make us vulnerable to the flies—no doubt the flies are among the foul creatures he calls friends!”
Lord Keron also spoke in support of Maziel, though the two were not known to be friends. “The dark servants are well known for the use of human sacrifice. Many good, holy sun priests have spoken of, and against, this foul, evil practice. We also know, from our own men at arms, that the envoy himself is familiar with the rite of human sacrifice and demanded that one occur more than once this past summer. According to the report I read, the dark one did, in fact, perform a human sacrifice. That murder didn’t occur here, but this one, the murder of the lovely Lady Kazia, did. It’s only a matter of time before he strikes again.”
“I was there during the time you speak of, and I learned some things about sacrifice in the dark brotherhood.” Jethain ticked the points off on his fingers as he spoke. “The sacrifice must occur on an altar of night for any power to be raised. Only a high priest can perform the ceremony. The sacrifice must be a volunteer, so much so that if the person changes their mind, the high priest must take their place.” He glanced at the councilors and shrugged. “That last point is the telling one. I doubt that Lady Kazia was willing to die and Araken is still very much alive. Therefore, I think it’s highly unlikely that Araken was the culprit. The only thing that ties the dark servants to the murder at all are common glyphs that anyone with an education would know.”
Jisten carefully kept his face expressionless. He’d also been there when the dark servants had discussed human sacrifice. He wasn’t sure he believed any of it. The cold-bloodedness he’d sensed from S’Rak and the others had deeply disturbed him. The entire concept of human sacrifice was twisted and evil, didn’t they see that? The sigil on his arm burned unpleasantly, reminding him of his failure and his shame.
Lord Peneron stirred at last. “I am most concerned about the reports that the high priest is moving into the late Lord Virien’s manor. He has already staffed the mansion, and his people are in the process of moving out of the palace as we speak. If the high priest is no longer residing here in the palace, not only do I fear that he will have many more opportunities to slip off unseen, the palace guard will no longer have the necessary jurisdiction to keep an eye on him.”
Owain nodded to the old duke. “Until there is solid evidence of a crime, Prince Araken remains free. But I must insist that he continues to reside here in the palace. Captain, see to it that he understands the position of the council in this matter. Remember that as your wife, he is your responsibility.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jisten knew better than to point out that he and Rak weren’t married. He’d already tried that and had his words dismissed. Because Rak was a sacred kironi, he was able to bear children. Because Jisten had won his claim of ownership of Rak after Virien had collared the priest for sexual submission, King Owain had decided that Rak qualified as a woman under the law and that Jisten was his husband. Koilathan law gave the husband the right to beat, chain, and even collar a disobedient wife. Many men chained their wives as a matter of course—no few noble ladies wore chains under their gowns and bore the mark of the lash upon their backs.
For the first time, Jisten seriously considered chaining Rak. At least until we know who did this. If he’s chained, he won’t be able to hurt anyone else. He told himself that it had nothing to do with how sexy Rak looked in a slave tunic, certainly not because of how much he’d enjoyed the easy access to Rak’s body. It will be for S’Rak’s own good. Besides, he liked wearing slave tunics for me.
Once the council meeting ended, Jisten quickly strode to his quarters to retrieve a few items before visiting Rak. He packed what he’d need in a small valise then headed for the envoy suite. Upon arriving at the set of rooms that had been Rak’s since his arrival in the early spring, the first thing Jisten noticed was the organization of the packing. He’d expected chaos, people running every which way; what he found was calm as items were placed in clearly marked crates.
He passed through the reception room to the parlor. Rak was there, seated at one of the desks, perusing a short stack of papers. He did his best to ignore the pain of his arm where the mark of Zotien had been burned in—at S’Rak’s orders, Jisten reminded himself. It made what he’d have to do easier.
“S’Rak,” he said in a firm, no-nonsense voice. “I need to speak to you, privately.”
Rak looked up at him and set the report aside. “I am at your service,” he replied evenly. He stood and headed for the bedroom, motioning for Jisten to follow. Jisten fell into step with him, and once they were in the privacy of the bedroom, Jisten closed and latched the door. Rak turned toward him. “I assume if you were here to arrest me, you would have already done so. What is it that you need to speak of?”
“I have just come from the council meeting. I have been instructed to inform you that you are not permitted to move out of the palace. You are required to remain here and under guard until you have either been arrested or cleared in the matter of Kazia’s murder.”
“I see.” Rak shrugged. “I had not planned on moving out, Captain. S’Liast and Lady Despina are taking charge of the mansion. S’Ioli and I will remain here because this is where our duties require us to be. Is there anything else?”
Jisten’s lips pursed at the cold indifference in Rak’s tone. He made up his mind to remind Rak of his place, and the burning on his arm abruptly ceased. He understood, finally, the purpose of the pain—it was to encourage him to do the right thing and bring the wayward kironi under control. He set the valise on the edge of the bed. “By both Koilathan law and Valer custom, you are my wife, and I am going to claim my rights. Remove your clothes and get on the bed.”
“No.” Rak shrugged his shoulders as he offered this defiance. “I do not recognize the sovereignty of Koilathan law over myself. As for Valer custom, I doubt Asfalea or Despina would agree with your interpretation of what it means to be bonded.”
Jaw set, Jisten strode forward, reached down and grasped Rak’s crotch through his clothing. He felt the immediate response to the contact and forced himself to stare into Rak’s gaze until the smaller man glanced down, flushing. “You know you want it. How many times have you told me you wanted me? Only me? And now, when I want you, you refuse? You wore my collar will
ingly. You gave yourself to me over and over and over again. Or have you forgotten this?” He switched to Zafirin, the language of the Riverlands, and snapped, “Strip!” in the master-to-slave tense.
Rak’s hands reached up and started to undo the fastenings of his clothing. His stance widened slightly, giving Jisten better access to his crotch. He didn’t look up as he undressed, but Jisten was satisfied with his obedience. The tunic came off, followed by the nearly sheer undershirt. Jisten nodded approval—Rak appeared healthy, his skin unblemished and his frame filled out with muscle. Rak undid the lacing of his pants then paused, looking down at the hand that still grasped him through the fabric.
Jisten released him, crossed his arms over his chest but continued to watch Rak intently. Rak kicked off the low, indoor boots he wore then slid the pants down his legs. He stepped out of the pants then undid the simple fastening of his wrap. It fell away, releasing his erection. Jisten grasped the hard cock in his hand, squeezing slightly and tugging. Rak stepped closer to him. Jisten ran his free hand over Rak’s torso, pleased with the sensation of Rak’s firm flesh under his hand. He squeezed Rak’s pecs and pinched the nipples until pearls of milk formed.
He backed up, bringing Rak with him. He found it fun to lead Rak by his erect cock and finally understood why Zothian masters used the penis leash. He sat down on the comfortable, overstuffed chair and finally let go of Rak’s cock. Still speaking Zafirin, he said, “Kneel.”
Rak sank down before him, his knees spreading widely apart in the manner of the pleasure slave he had been and, in many ways, still was. Jisten admired the view this offered then lifted his left leg toward the Loftoni. Rak understood the silent command. He grasped Jisten’s leg in a gentle grip and removed the stiffer uniform boot his captain wore. He set the boot aside, rolled the thin sock down and off the foot, and set it with the boot. He kissed Jisten’s bare foot then started to lick it, washing it with his tongue. He licked the entire foot thoroughly until no trace of dirt or sweat remained then sucked on Jisten’s toes until they felt completely revitalized.
He set the now clean foot down on his erect cock and switched to the other leg. The second boot and sock joined their mates, and Rak started the foot washing anew. The entire time, Jisten watched Rak with a sense of approval. The mark on his arm gave him no pain as Rak offered his submission. He toyed with the penis under his left foot, rubbing his foot against it to stimulate it or flipping it about with his toes, sometimes he even mashed it against Rak’s firm thighs or pinned it to the floor. Rak’s hips rolled in response to his stimulus, and Jisten smirked as the smaller man humped the air for him in a submissive display of lust.
Eventually, they had to move on. Rak set Jisten’s right foot down beside the left, widening his thighs a little more to give Jisten more space to play. His hands came to rest on his widely spread legs, and he waited, with bowed head, for further instruction. Jisten sensed that Rak was in a fully submissive state now. There’d be no more refusals. He rubbed his feet against Rak’s erection playfully, encouraging the smaller man’s gyrations until he brought Rak to a false orgasm. He pinned the cock between his feet as it throbbed, Rak’s seed spurting from the tip to land on the floor. Once the orgasm had passed, he released Rak’s cock and set his feet on Rak’s thighs. Without being prompted, Rak leaned forward and licked up the mess he’d made.
When Rak resumed his kneeling position, Jisten gestured to himself. “Honor me.”
“Yes, domin,” Rak responded in the slave-to-master tense, using the word for master that also meant owner. He rose up on his knees and leaned forward to reach Jisten. He undid the heavy leather belt with his hands but used his mouth to undo the pants and open the fabric. Jisten was wearing Koilathan shorts, so Rak was able to part them at the slit to guide Jisten’s jewels through. Rak kissed both balls in turn, the base of Jisten’s cock then the tip, in the Zothian slave’s greeting to its master. He continued to kiss Jisten’s hard shaft, his lips soft, warm and wonderful, in a delightful display of submissive love. Once he’d kissed every bit of Jisten’s manhood, Rak switched to licking Jisten’s balls, giving them as thorough a cleaning as he had Jisten’s feet, and in a manner that was even more submissive than before.
Jisten sighed in satisfaction as Rak’s tongue cleaned him and energized him. He knew the properties of Rak’s saliva; it had been magically altered to give the recipient greater sexual stamina as well as to leave a perfect layer of lubrication behind. Rak switched to Jisten’s cock, his magically elongated tongue able to wrap entirely around the thick pole as he licked it, stimulated it, and honored it. Rak’s tongue on his cock was one of his favorite sensations. He reached down and stroked Rak’s short, short hair in approval. “Very good. I like that. Do you want to suck me?”
He knew Rak wanted it. Rak loved to give him oral pleasure, either as an act of submission or just for the sense of accomplishment at swallowing Jisten’s enormous cock. Perhaps both. But today, Jisten wanted to hear Rak ask for it. He wanted to know that Rak desired him, desired to please him, desired to be used by him, especially after he’d tried to refuse him.
“Yes, domin. Please, domin, your slave begs permission to pleasure your magnificent phallus.”
“Permission granted.”
Rak swallowed him. Jisten groaned in pleasure as Rak’s lips, mouth then throat sank down over him from tip to root. He rolled his hips, smiling as he felt his length sliding down Rak’s tight, hot, pulsating throat. Rak’s lips were sealed about Jisten’s cock, and his mouth sucked while his throat worked to massage Jisten, his tongue delightfully pressed against the cock. Jisten rested his hands on Rak’s head, gently pressing Rak against his groin as he took control by thrusting himself down Rak’s throat. Rak bore down, his throat constricting and his mouth working furiously. Jisten groaned again as Rak wrested an orgasm from him. He fell still as his cock throbbed, pumping a load of his seed down Rak’s throat.
He rested, not moving, as Rak swallowed his gift, still sucking until Jisten softened. Rak eased off his cock then licked it thoroughly before returning his attention to Jisten’s balls. Jisten stood up, and for several minutes, he allowed Rak to suck on his dangling balls. As sometimes happened, he could see it, the way Rak’s jaw and mouth strained to envelop his sac, how Rak’s face distorted with the effort of mouthing something that large. The drool dripping down Rak’s chin and cheeks pleased him, as did the sight of Rak sucking on his balls, massaging them with his tongue.
When he felt revitalized and ready for more, he said, “Enough. Get on the bed.”
Rak released the suction with an amusing plopping sound, backed up on his knees, went on all fours, and crawled to the bed then climbed into it. He knelt at the foot of the bed with his knees spread wide, in the posture of a sex slave.
Jisten smiled as he strode to the bed. He opened the valise and removed an exquisite black and silver torque. He showed it to Rak. “Put this on.”
Engraved in the black part of the metal were the words, This slave is the property of Jisten Kydem. The torque locked in the back, meeting the legal requirements of a slave collar for all that it looked like jewelry. Rak accepted the torque from his hands and placed it around his neck. It looked good on him, but Jisten was even happier when he heard the lock click shut.
The next thing he took out of the valise was a wife chain. “This goes around your waist.” Koilathan wife chains were lengths of slender chains, usually silver or gold, and worked with subtle spells that encouraged obedience, enhanced fertility, and triggered lust at the will of the husband, to ensure that the wife wouldn’t refuse her bedroom duties on some pretext.
Rak accepted the chain and wrapped it around his waist. Like the collar, it locked once it was closed, and there was enough magic to ensure it wouldn’t slide off.
Jisten wanted to breed Rak, to plant another child in the kironi’s womb to replace the babies that had been stolen from him, but he feared it might be too soon. Rak had barely recovered from the events of the summer
. Another feature of the wife chain made it impossible for the wearer to lie, dissemble, or mislead the husband. “Are you healthy enough for this?” Jisten massaged Rak’s belly until the opening gaped, hot and moist against his fingers.
Rak had stiffened when Jisten touched him there, he shuddered when Jisten opened him, but he replied steadily enough, “Not yet, domin. Please forgive my weakness.”
Jisten removed his hand as he sighed in disappointment. Then he shrugged. Rak was his; there was plenty of time. “Position,” he commanded.
Rak turned around and pressed his chest and face to the bed, leaving his ass positioned high in the air for Jisten. His widely spread legs meant that Jisten was also treated to a view of Rak’s dangling, erect package. Jisten reached down and rolled the butter soft, hairless scrotum in his hand. He loved the way Rak’s balls and sac felt in his hand, how soft and warm it was, the way the nuts rolled against his palm like a pair of meditation balls.
His cock was already lubricated with Rak’s saliva, so he pressed himself against the pucker of Rak’s entrance and waited. Rak relaxed himself and rocked back, thrusting his hot sheath onto Jisten’s waiting sword. Jisten squeezed Rak’s balls as Rak impaled himself, then, with his other hand, he set a finger to either side of Rak’s opening, enjoying the way it felt as Rak strained to take him in. He saw it also, the way his cock parted Rak’s moist tunnel, straightening it as his long length plunged inward, deeper and deeper until his pubic mound was pressed against Rak’s ass and his own dangling balls rested against Rak’s smaller scrotum.
Jisten grasped Rak’s hips as he thrust himself into the hot, velvet warmth that was Rak. He knew Rak liked it hard, fast, and deep, so he set a bruising pace that had them both sweating in short order. Rak ground himself against Jisten, working in perfect counterpoint and increasing their pleasure greatly. Rak’s pleasure fed back to him, both from the potions Rak had been given and from their bond. They came together, Jisten closing his eyes as the whirlwind of intense sensation filled him.